Heartbreak
by EmilBondevik
Summary: Heartbreak gets to Oliver (2p!England) in the worst way possible, starting when he is rejected by Amelia (Nyo!America), whom he had thought to be the love of his life. She was the first to die, but she certainly won't be the last.
1. Rejection

"Oliver, I'm sorry, but you know I don't think of you like that."

Those words rang in Oliver's ears. Sure, he had prepared for rejection, but he never thought it would actually happen. No, this couldn't be real.

His dejected blue eyes met Amelia's pitiful ones, his pale fists beginning to clench the end of his shirt. "No, no it's fine. You've told me before - I don't know why I thought things would be any different now."

The taste of copper made its way into the Brit's mouth as his teeth bared down on his bottom lip, and simultaneously he plead for the hot red of his face and ears to go down, it likely being a sign of not only his embarrassment, but also the tears that stung his eyes and were threatening to fall at any moment, should he continue to stare into those deep pools of ocean blue he loved more than anything in the world.

"Listen, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you..." Amelia said, placing her hand on Oliver's knee, to which the Brit just raised his hand, holding it in front of her. "There's no need. I'm fine, really."

The American woman gave him a concerned look, not believing his words. "Are you sure?" she asked, furowing her brows at the Englishman.

"Of course I'm sure," Oliver reassured, mustering up as much of a fake smile as he could manage. "I'll see you later, Amelia," he said, standing up and walking away. "Oliver, wait-" Amelia tried to stop him, but he was already out of the door.

_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Oliver screamed as he lie awake in bed. His pillow was being firmly pressed against his face by his pale hands, muffling each of his words, something he was thankful for, lest he alert the neighbours. Sweat drenched every part of his body; he had been screaming like this for hours.

"I should have known. She could never love someone like me," he told himself. And kept telling himself, all throughout the night. Hour and hour went by, sleep seeming to allude the pink haired male. He had torn up his bed; his sheets and blankets on the floor, and pillow still covering his face. All whilst he sat curled up in a ball.

And during those hours of thrashing, crying, screaming, kicking, and cursing himself for being such an idiot, Oliver had come to one, simple conclusion. The only way for him to have Amelia would be for him to take her. And the only way for him to have her heart forever would be to take it by force.

_

Morning came, the bright sun shining in through the thin pastel pink and blue curtains, and illuminating Oliver's room; a soft glow of yellow touching the Englishman's face. His eyes squinted at the sudden light. A small groan filled the large room, and the person responsible for such a noise rolled over. He hadn't quite realised how close he was to the edge, and ended up on the floor with a thud.

"Butterscotch..." Oliver grumbled quietly, his voice quiet and hoarse - a result of having just woken up, and the hours he had previously spent in tears.

He attempted to stand to his feet - just barely managing to do so - wobbling side to side, and having to use the edge of the bed as support.

A piercing noise rang through his ears, a noise that took Oliver a few moments to discern what it was. His phone!

He quickly sifted through all the blankets and sheets that were strewn across the bed and floor, finally managing to locate the device. He picked it up, fumbling with it for a minute before pressing the green button to answer the call and holding it up to his ear.

"H-Hello...?" the gravely British voice asked.

"Hello? Oliver? Is that you?"

Oliver paused for a moment - it was Amelia on the other line. Why was she calling him? Why would she call him after she shattered his heart?

"Yes..." the Englishman said, his tired voice holding a cold tone that he had hardly ever used before.

"Are you okay? You don't sound so good... listen, I'm coming over to check you later, okay?"

Oliver gulped, noticing how dry his throat was. "Fine."

He brought the phone from his ear and hung up, the pain of hearing her voice too much for him to handle.

He threw the phone to the ground and stuffed his face in his hands as he flopped onto the bed. Time seemed to slow for him; the world spinning; his eyes closing to ease the pain of the headache that had made itself known.

And four words escaped his lips.

"You will be mine."


	2. I Love You

"Why are you doing this?"

Amelia could feel each if his fingers as he reached into her chest - the pulsing, burning, screaming pain causing her to wail and cry with as much of her voice that was left - and grabbed her somehow still beating heart, blood spirting out everywhere. Running down her stomach, soaking Oliver's hand, covering everything with it's sticky, burning, maroon red. He knew she could feel it, and that's what gave him pleasure. Knowing that she could feel as he claimed her as his forever.

"Because I love you, Amelia."

She choked and gasped for air as her heart rate quickened. Oliver could feel as the pulsating organ picked up speed, and with a laugh he swiftly tore it out. An ear piercing scream escaped Amelia's lips. Her once bright, blue eyes rolled back into her head, showing only the hollow, lifeless whites that were still puffy and red from her pain filled tears.

Oliver smirked in satisfaction, looking at the organ that was still beating in his hand, watching as it slowed down into nothingness. He brought the heart that he had taken up to his lips, licking it; savoring the sweet, metallic taste of blood as it soaked his tongue. He hadn't the faintest clue why he had done so - but he was glad he did. It was delicious.

He was overjoyed. But not in the way a child becomes joyful to have a new toy, or how a mother is when she sees her new born baby, no; this was something new. A sort of rush like Oliver had never felt before. But what was this feeling? He had no clue. He chose not to think about it, and to instead just bask in its glory.

The Brit set Amelia's heart down on the table and took a moment to admire his work. She looked so beautiful like this. He wanted her to stay this way forever. That's when he got an idea.

He was planning to preserve her heart. But, he could preserve her whole body! A few chemicals, some stitches here and there, and not only would her heart be his forever, but she'll be with him until the end of time. Giggling in excitement, he quickly got to work.

_

Warm water rushed over the maroon red that covered pale, freckled hands. The water took on the colour of the thick, staining liquid, rushing down the drain as it trailed downward and went down the drain.

Oliver's meticulous blue eyes watched, almost examining his hands rather than simply watching them; making sure that each drop of red was removed from his skin.

When the water ran clear he reached up and twisted the faucet off, scrutinizing his hands and fingers before grabbing a towel and dying them off. A blank expression rested on his features, even remaining so when his attention snapped toward the familiar ringing of his cellphone.

He squeezed the towel to make sure his hands were totally dry before setting it down next to the sink. He picked up his phone and looked at the contact, before answering it. "Hello?"

"Yo, Ollie, you seen Amelia around? She said she was gonna go to your place and be back 'round noon, but she ain't home yet," an American voice said from the other end - a voice similar to Amelia's, but less kind. Amelia always spoke so kindly.

"No, I haven't seen her. Maybe she got lost? It's been a while since he's been up here," Oliver said, with an amount of calmness and false-worry that would make anyone believe that his words were true.

"I don't know. I'm just kinda worried 'bout her. Call me if ya hear anything from her, aight?"

"I will. Talk to you later, Amber."

"Talk to ya later, Ollie."

Oliver heard Amber hang up and let out a sigh, simply staring at the screen for a moment before setting it face down on the counter. He cleaned up around the counter and sink; lifeless eyes watching him in the background, a smile stitched across the cold face and a heart that was once beating floating in a jar beside her.


End file.
